Giggles
by Mistress AfriCoffee
Summary: Welcome to a Modern AU where the 104th works for a magazine company with an OCD boss that demands that someone interviews one of the most dangerous men alive. After Eren botches said interview, all hell breaks loose-people are brutally murdered, Eren is ruthlessly annoyed, and Annie actually smiles for the first time in ages. (More humor than horror, but it's kinda violent)
1. Looks are Decieving

"What do you mean _I_ have to be the one who interviews him?"

Eren's boss sighed as he set down his tea cup. "You're the newbie, and you need something under your belt. Wouldn't you rather it be the scariest serial killer since Jack the Ripper?"

Eren swallowed. In his opinion, Jack the Ripper was a petty thief compared to the man he's being assigned to. "I'm not sure that's entirely true—"

"Look Yeager," Levi said, "it's now or never. You need to expand your horizons."

"I _did_ ," he said, "I used to only do celebrity leaks, but now I'm a sports journalist! Why does a sports journalist need to interview a psycho in an insane asylum?"

"Because nobody in the division that _does_ deal with psychos in an insane asylum is willing to do it."

"And so putting a mild-mannered _sports journalist_ is going to solve the problem?!"

"First off, you are _not_ mild-mannered," Levi said, "and second, this could earn you that promotion over Ackerman you've been striving for."

Eren thought for a moment. "That…sounds nice…"

He has been wanting to get a promotion over his foster sister ever since they got here—all throughout their life she'd been better than him at _everything_ , and maybe this could be his chance to actually excel beyond her, especially since she actually was an investigative journalist who _does_ deals with psychos in insane asylums.

Then again, if _she_ refused to see him, this guy must be something…

"I'll do it," he said with resolve.

"Don't be so sure," his boss said, tossing him a file. "We've been interviewing this asylum for a while, trying to figure out how criminals work—you know the drill. The man was just recently allowed to be interviewed by us, and now nobody has the balls to do it."

"I'll do it," Eren said again.

Levi nodded. "His name is Armin Arlert—a genius prodigy who's done some pretty gross stuff—I'm not going into detail because it's all in that file. He's escaped prison several times, though nobody knows how. I'm pretty sure he kills just because he can, but I'm not him, thank god."

Eren winced as he read through the files. It ranged from simple petty theft—how ironic—to murder and even cannibalism—how disturbing.

"I'm counting on you," Levi said, "but I won't blame you if you piss yourself with fear. The last time someone interviewed this man—"

"They became a victim," Eren finished, "I'm not surprised."

"Actually no," his boss said, "his _wife_ did."

Eren tensed. He didn't have a wife, but he had a _sister_. If she gets harmed…

"Just stick with the facts," Levi advised, "don't be nice to him, be cold and distant. He has a way of making you trust him, but remember this— _looks are deceiving_."

"'Looks are deceiving," he repeated, "I shall keep that in mind."

"Thank you," Levi said, "I don't feel like losing any more reporters."

With that ominous statement, Eren was shooed out of the office.

"You shouldn't do this Eren."

Eren rolled his eyes as he double checked his things. "Of _course_ you'd say that," he muttered, "just because _you_ were too afraid to do it, then there's no way _I_ could do it."

"Eren," Mikasa said, "he's a dangerous man. He's _done_ things."

"And he'll be separated from me through six inches of bullet-proof glass," Eren said, "yes, he's dangerous, but he can't get to me."

"That's where you're wrong," Mikasa said, "He may not be able to hurt you physically, but he'll play mind games. He can get inside your head."

"I'm only asking questions," Eren muttered.

"And who knows how he'll answer?"

"I'm going to do this Mikasa," Eren said, turning to his sister. "You can't stop me."

Mikasa looked at him for a moment, and then looked down. "Okay," she relented, "but…don't trust him, okay. He may look innocent, but looks can be deceiving."

Eren stopped. _Looks are deceiving._

That was the same exact advice that his boss gave him.

"I'll keep that in mind," he said, "now I have to go. I'll see you later."

Mikasa nodded. "Okay. Be safe."

Eren smiled at his sister. "Don't worry, I will."

"Hello, I'm Journalist Eren Yeager," Eren said, showing the receptionist his badge, "and I'm here to interview Armin Arlert."

The receptionist stopped her typing and looked up at him, eyes wide. All noise within earshot had vanished, and he suddenly felt self-conscious.

"I'm sorry," the receptionist said after coming out of her shocked stupor, "who?"

"I'm Eren—"

"I heard your name," she said, "You said you wanted to interview _who_?"

Eren sighed. He didn't know why he was so surprised—after what Levi said, who would go try to interview him? He's only doing it to prove to Mikasa that he can take care of himself and that he's better than her at _one_ thing.

Sibling rivalry can only get you so far…

"Armin Arlert," he repeated, "yes, I know he's probably one of the worst people to walk the earth, but it's complicated."

The receptionist gave him a look of pity. "I'm sorry," she repeated, "I'll call Dr. Smith, and he'll be right here to bring you to… _his_ cell."

"Thank you," he said.

"Oh, and one piece of advice," the receptionist said, "he may be cute, but looks are deceiving."

 _Cute?_

"I know, I know," he said, "You're literally the third person to say that."

"Because it's important," the receptionist said, "The universe is trying to stress how important it is."

Now he was starting to feel even more freaked out. "Well it's drilled into my mind now," he said, "thanks."

The receptionist nodded. "You're welcome."

A tall, strong looking man strode into the room wearing a white jacket and a nametag that read _Dr. Erwin Smith._

"You're Mr. Yeager, I take it," Dr. Smith said, holding out his hand to shake.

Eren took it and shook it firmly. "Yes I am, and I'm with the _Maria Monthly_ to do a special in the investigative section on one of the most dangerous criminals in the world."

"But you're a renowned sports journalist," he said, "why are you dealing with psychos in an insane asylum?"

"I keep asking myself that question," Eren laughed, "to be honest, it's because my sister—who's better at _everything_ —turned it down."

"So you stepped up as a way to prove yourself," Dr. Smith finished. "Ah sibling rivalry… me and my sister are like that."

Eren laughed. "That's an interesting relationship…"

They continued to walk and talk until they reached a large door that read **KEEP OUT** in large, bold red lettering.

"Down here is his cell, in the basement," he said, putting a finger to a scanner, then his eye. After all of that, he did voice recognition, and the door finally opened.

"Now he's just down here."

Eren swallowed. "Got it. Lead the way."

Erwin Smith started down the steps, and Eren followed behind.

Dr. Smith stopped walking, and Eren realized they had stopped at a large, titanium door. It had a large lock on the front, and a tiny window about eye level. He peeked through it and noticed there was at least nine other doors after this one.

"He's probably lonely," he muttered, "I didn't even know insane asylums were even this…"

"Protected?" Dr. Smith finished, "they're not. This was specially designed for _him_. He's a bad man. Don't pity him or you'll end up dead."

"You mean Ar—"

" _Do not_ say his name," Dr. Smith interrupted, "but yes. _Him_.

"He's right within these doors," Dr. Smith said, "now let me discuss the rules—do not be nice, do _not_ ask any details on methods of murder, and above all, do _not_ , under _any_ circumstances, give _any_ personal information _whatsoever_."

Eren nodded. "Of course."

"And a piece of advice," Dr. Smith added, "he may look innocent—"

"But looks are deceiving," Eren finished, "yes, I know, I can tell. You're the fourth person to say that to me. It's drilled into my brain."

Dr. Smith nodded. "Good."

And then the doors opened.


	2. Conscience (Or Lack Thereof)

The doors opened and closed one by one as Eren walked through them. He remembered what Dr. Smith said about the cell being specially made for him.

 _Don't pity him or else you'll end up dead._

The final door never opened, but it wasn't metal like the others. It was a thick, bulletproof glass that exposed a white room with paintings and such on the walls, and a massive bookshelf that made up almost the entire left wall. The room itself wasn't that big, however—it was around the size of a normal classroom. There was a cot in the left by the bookshelf, and a chair on the other side of the room with a table and even more books lying on and around it.

However the person occupying it was nowhere in sight.

"Uh…hello?" Eren asked, "Are you there?"

No response.

"Is _anyone_ there?"

No response.

Now Eren was starting to worry. Did he get out? How could he of done that so quickly? Could he have slipped past when he walked through? No…that's not possible—each door had closed immediately after he passed through it. He would have seen or heard him, and even if he didn't and slipped past he'd be stuck in one of the other doors, and as he came back security would restrain him before he tried to kill him.

He scanned the room again, but it was completely empty.

"You're really bad at looking."

Eren jumped back with a shout, falling over and dropping his bag on the ground.

"W-where the hell did you come from?"

But as he looked around the room again, there was no one there.

"Seriously?" The voice asked, "You hurt my feelings."

Finally Eren spotted him—he was sitting right next to the glass, staring directly at him.

He was relatively small, with a mop of blonde hair pulled into a messy ponytail and bright blue eyes that twinkled like a child who just got a birthday present. He even had a childish grin on his face, and a book open in his lap that seemed to be some kind of encyclopedia.

To be honest, he was slightly disappointed.

 _Looks are deceiving._

Shaking his head, Eren scooted to the front of the glass so he was facing him. "Hi," he said, "I'm—"

"Eren Yeager," the blonde said, "here to interview me for Maria Monthly I'm assuming."

Eren tensed. "H-how did you know my name? A-and that I'm—"

"It says so on your nametag."

Looking down, he saw it was right—his press badge had his name on it.

"But how did you know I was with the Maria Monthly?"

"As you can tell," the blonde said, "I like to read. You're a popular sports journalist."

Eren sighed. He's way too paranoid for his good. He's _fine_. Besides, the kid looked no older than seventeen. He can't harm him.

 _Looks can be deceiving._

"Anyway, I'm here to ask you a few questions," he continued, "if that's alright with you."

Armin shrugged. "Sure. You're the first visitor I've had in three years."

Something tugged at Eren's heart when he said that. "Y…you mean you've been down here for three years?"

"Yep," he replied, "The closest thing I get to a visitor is the person who gives me food three times a day. I don't even see their face—they have a little slot in the back where they drop it off. Sometimes they bring me books but lately they've just been ignoring my requests…" He said the last part with a small pout as he averted his eyes, looking dejected.

"That's…not fair," Eren said, feeling sympathy for him. "If you're stuck here for the duration of your sentence, then you should at least be _entertained_ …"

Armin smiled sadly. "That's the thing," he said, "I'm stuck in this box for life."

"W-what?! For _life_? You mean you're going to be stuck here, all alone for the rest of your _life_?"

"Yes."

"No," Eren said, "that's not fair. I refuse to believe that!"

"You refuse to believe that a mass murderer is imprisoned for life?"

 _Looks are deceiving_.

"I don't believe it," Eren said defiantly, "there's no way you're that twisted. Even if you were, you're not exactly the biggest—"

Armin's smile melted into a deadly glare. "Excuse me?"

Eren's hairs stood on end, but he kept talking. "No offense, but you don't look like you can pull off being a school bully let alone a mass murderer."

Armin rolled his eyes. "It's funny," he said, "a guy said that to me a few years ago."

"And what happened?" Eren asked.

"I flayed him alive."

Eren blinked. "You…wait what?"

"I flayed him alive," Armin repeated.

He sounded so _calm_ about it. "F…flayed him…?"

"Yeah," the blonde said, "it's when you cut—"

"I-I know what flaying is," Eren interrupted, "I…I just wasn't sure if you were serious or not."

"Well flaying is my favorite way to torture people," Armin said cheerfully, "They scream really loudly and they don't bleed to death as quickly as other methods, but it still spills enough blood to leave me satisfied."

 _Do not ask about methods of murder._

Eren shook his head. "A-anyway, I'm not here about how you kill people."

Armin looked slightly disappointed. "You're not?"

"No," he replied, "I'm here to ask _why_ you kill people."

" _Why_ I kill people?" Armin asked.

Eren nodded in response, readying a pen and a notepad.

The boy was silent for a while, and the silence went from awkward to uncomfortable.

"I have no idea," he said.

"You…what?" Eren asked, confused.

"I honestly have no idea," the blond repeated, "I guess you can say I just do it because it's been drilled into my head _not_ to."

Eren thought for a moment. "So…you kill because you can?"

"No," Armin replied, "I kill because I _can't_. It's human nature—every time someone says not to do something, your first instinct is to do it. Of course, a split second later your conscience kicks in, and you do as you're told unless you really want to do that thing—or person, depending on the situation."

Eren rolled his eyes, and Armin laughed. "It's the truth!" he said, "What do you think lust is? It's the want to do something you shouldn't."

"So what you're saying," Eren said, "is that you ignore your conscience?"

"No," the blonde said, smiling. "I simply don't have one."

"Well _that_ was eye opening," Mikasa said sarcastically, "how am I not surprised?"

Eren sighed as he flopped down on the couch. "Remind me, why am I living with you again?"

"Because you punched your former landlord in the face and he evicted you?" Mikasa asked.

"Oh right. That."

The brunette sat back up and ruffled through his bag until he found his notepad. When he flipped through it, he felt chills run through his spine.

 _So you ignore your conscience?_

 _No, I simply don't have one._

"It's weird," Eren said to his sister, "he seems like he's just a little kid who likes talking about books, but flaying people alive instead."

Mikasa set down her book and looked at him. "But remember, he's talking about _flaying_. _People_. _ALIVE_ , Eren. _ALIVE_."

"Of _course_ I know that!" he said, "I'm just saying…"

"Just remember who he is Eren," Mikasa warned.

Eren sighed. "I'll look at his files if it'll make you feel better."

She didn't reply as he got up and walked into his room and came back out with Armin's file.

"I'm telling you, the guy's not all…bad…"

His eyes widened as he looked at the pictures—flaying really _was_ his favorite way to torture people. Sometimes he left them alive, other times he would cut the limbs off and make a "treasure hunt" of the body parts.

…while they're still alive.

"It's hard to believe that he did all of this," Eren said as he read through the files, "but I need to go over there again and ask more questions."

Mikasa sighed. "Eren…"

"Levi's making me do it," Eren said, "I didn't get enough information on the last visit."

Mikasa sighed. "Okay…but please make this your last visit."

Eren nodded. "Fine…"

"Good."


	3. Runt

"You're back?"

Eren swallowed as Armin sat up from his cot, putting a book down on the floor next to it. "More questions, I'm assuming?"

"Y-yeah," he said, feeling uneasy.

He had read through more of Armin's files before coming here—apparently the one that Levi gave him was only a _fifth_ of what he did, and it was the _mild_ stuff—and he got his hands on some of the more confidential stuff before he left for the cell.

 _Looks are deceiving._

"What's wrong Eren?" Armin asked, "Did you read over some of my masterpieces on your way here?"

"M-masterpieces?"

"Yeah," Armin said, "masterpieces. Or murders, you guys call them."

Eren leaned back. "You take _pride_ in that?!"

Armin looked offended. "Of _course_ I do! Murder is like an art form!"

"Murder isn't artistic at all."

"Yes it is!" he insisted, "An artist gets inspired to do art, they have a favorite medium, and a signature style! _I_ get inspired to kill people, I normally flay them alive, and I always start with the back and dig my fingers under—"

"Okay okay that's enough!" Eren shouted, thoroughly disgusted. "Like I said, _reasons_ , not _methods_!"

"But it's different how _I_ do it," Armin insisted, though more to himself than Eren. "Because you have to massage the tissue—"

"Listen runt," Eren muttered, "just let me do my job, and you can go on about flaying people alive—"

" _What_ did you just call me?"

"A—"

Eren faltered at the blonde's glare. A shadow had covered his face, and his childish attitude vanished, replaced with malice that seemed to make the room's temperature go up ten degrees.

The brunette nervously loosened his tie. "I…uh…"

"Let me set one thing straight," Armin growled, "Do _not_ call me a runt."

Suddenly Eren was the one who felt offended. "Or what? You can't hurt me here."

Armin's eyebrow twitched. "You really think so _Eren Yeager_?"

The way he said his full name made Eren's hairs stand on end.

 _Looks can be deceiving._

He calmed himself down. Armin can't hurt him in there, in that box. The most he could do was throw books at the window.

"Yes," Eren said with resolve, "I really _do_ think so, _Armin Arlert._ "

Armin laughed darkly. "If I ever get out of here—"

"It wouldn't matter," Eren said, "because you _can't_."

The blonde tapped his chin thoughtfully. "I haven't flayed anyone in three years," he said, "It's probably long overdue."

Eren blinked. "You really think that you can get out?"

Armin gave him a confused look. "You really think I _can't_?"

"I think I pissed him off."

Levi nearly dropped his coffee cup all over his paperwork. "You _what_!?"

Eren looked down. "I-I visited five different times, and each time he blatantly _ignored_ me."

"Well _that's_ just great," he muttered, "the one guy who has the balls to talk to _him_ , and _he_ won't talk!"

His boss stared at his desk for a moment, and then said:

"Annie Leonhart's coming with you."

"W- _what_!?" Eren asked, utterly confused. " _Why_!?"

"She said she changed her mind about going. Apparently after hearing your sister didn't do it she wanted to do it, but you beat her to the punch."

"That doesn't—"

" _She_ hasn't pissed him off," Levi said, "But he _is_ familiar with you. So why do you have a problem with it?"

" _I'm_ not the one who's going to have a problem with it," Eren muttered.

"I took care of your sister," Levi said, "You'll be fine."

"Now there's two?" the receptionist, Krista, asked as Eren walked in with Annie silently keeping step beside him.

"Yeah," Eren said, "He's kind of _annoyed_ with me, so I thought bringing another along might break the silence."

Krista sighed. "Hopefully," she said, "and what's your name?"

"Annie Leonhart," Annie replied, her voice sharp and monotone.

Krista blinked. "O-okay. Dr. Smith will be with you shortly."

"Ooh," Armin said, "You brought a friend!"

"Partner for the time being," Eren replied, "this is—"

"I'm Annie Leonhart," Annie said, "I'm here because someone _fucked_ up last time."

Armin laughed. "Okay," he said, "Ask away."

"Why do you murder people?" Annie asked, sitting down on the ground.

Armin did the same. "Because I was told I can't."

Annie nodded. "Was this borne out of family life? Or were you bullied in school?"

"Both," Armin said, "I had a strict family and was horribly bullied. Everyone loved calling me the _runt_ of the family."

Eren suddenly felt bad about last week—he had reminded him of how he snapped in the first place, so of _course_ he was going to get super offended by that, even if it _was_ a simple offhand comment.

He also felt stupid—Annie was getting more information in a day than Eren has in a _week_. She and Armin were hitting it off pretty well, but Eren couldn't shake the feeling that they were getting alone almost _too_ well—Armin was laughing and acting like a little kid would around his crush, and it was starting to bother him.

"So what you're saying is that people kept putting you down, and you retaliated due to your lack of conscience?"

The brunette turned to Annie, shocked.

 _So what you're saying is that you ignore your conscience?_

 _I simply don't have one_.

Armin smiled. "Exactly that," he said, "exactly that…"

"Judging by the silence you've given Eren," Annie said, "he must have called you a runt while you were arguing. He _would_ do something like that, being a hot-headed _idiot_."

"I am _not_ a hot-headed idiot!" Eren shouted.

"Yes you are," Annie said bluntly.

Armin laughed again. "I like her," he said.

 _I can tell_ , Eren thought to himself—though he didn't dare say it out loud."She's a bitch," Eren muttered.

"Which is why I like her," Armin replied, "and she's the cold, distant one, not the girly, pink one."

"You distinguish them?" Annie asked, the first hint of emotion leaking into her voice.

"Oh yeah," Armin said, "There's you, cold and distant white bitch, then there's the peppy, cheerleader, pink bitches, and there's the black ones who just don't give a fuck about themselves and do drugs and sell themselves for money—and I'm _not_ referring to race, seeing as 'pink' isn't a race I've ever heard of."

"I take it the latter two have been victims?"

"You bet," Armin said, "a particular pink one broke my heart in middle school, but I'm over that…I still killed her though because she became a black one and tried to sell me drugs."

Eren put his face in his hands. "You two are getting along too well. He's a _murderer_. A _cannibal_."

"Oh my—okay that happened _once_ ," Armin said, "it was my first time on the run and I couldn't go _anywhere_ without getting caught, and I was literally nearing starvation. You can't think straight when you're _starving_ so I decided to eat one of my victims. I didn't enjoy it at all—despite what other cannibals say, it does _not_ taste like chicken."

"Was it because the victim was raw?" Annie asked thoughtfully.

Armin shrugged. "I don't know, maybe…"

"Annie," Eren said sternly, "he's fucked up enough as he is. Don't make him even _more_ fucked up."

"I wasn't telling him to _try_ it," Annie said, "I was merely speculating."

"I wasn't going to try it anyway," Armin stated, crossing his arms. "I'm fine with just flaying people."

"Where does your desire to flay people come from?" Annie asked, "Why is it your favorite means?"

"Well once in high school I had gotten a bad cut on my side," he said, "and after school one day three of the kids on the football team had attacked me and dragged me into the locker rooms where they ripped out the stitches and tore the cut apart. It hurt like hell, but I couldn't fight against a two-hundred-and-fifty-pound linebacker and a two-hundred-pound wide receiver as a three-hundred-fifty-pound quarterback quite literally tore me open."

"So you wanted to make them suffer like they did," Annie said, "and can I assume they were your first victims?"

"Just the quarterback," Armin said, "the other two were blackmailed into it, and eventually they let me go and held the quarterback back so I can escape and get help. The quarterback was only suspended, and the other two ended up transferring schools. When the quarterback came back I got a hold of his cell phone—he was blackmailing the two with nude pictures—and I deleted them and destroyed the phone. He retaliated by attacking me again and doing the same thing, except there was no linebackers or wide receivers to stop him."

Annie gave him a condescending look. "What happened then?"

"What happened then?" he asked, "His bag was on the floor, and I saw he had a box cutter in it. I grabbed it and stabbed him in the back with it several times, and he let go. I was infuriated by know, seeing as this was the second time this happened, so I cut through his shirt and cut a perfect line on his back, and pulled the skin apart."

"And a signature art form is created," Annie finished.

Armin grinned. "Either you're just as fucked as me, or you're trying to get me to trust you when I shouldn't."

"It's the latter," Annie stated bluntly.

"Either way it just makes me like you more."

Eren sighed. "Are we done here?"

"No," Annie said, "but our time is up. We'll come by tomorrow."

"Oh Eren," Armin said, "I'm still pissed off at you, but not enough to waste energy on breaking out of here."

"You're probably saying that because you can't find a way," Eren shot back.

Annie grabbed him by the scruff of his shirt and dragged him away.


	4. Escape

"You're going _again_? With _her_?!"

Eren sighed as he took another bite of his ramen. "Yes," he muttered, "though she should just go by herself. She's doing just fine by herself."

Mikasa sighed. "Then tell Levi that. Being with Armin is bad enough, being with him _and_ Annie…"

"That's just all kinds of 'no'," Eren finished, "and I don't even _do_ anything. I just sit there and watch them hit it off. For god's sake they're _hitting it off_! They were literally discussing why cannibals like eating people!"

His sister stared at him, eyes wide. "Wait… _what_?"

"You heard me," Eren said, "they were discussing _cannibalism._ Armin said he only did it once because he was starving to death and not in his right mind—"

"But he is when he's _torturing_ and _killing_ people?!" Mikasa asked, "Eren he's _insane_!"

"You don't think I _know_ that!?" Eren shot back, " _I'm_ not the one making friends with him! I mean, at _first_ I may have been sympathetic, but after calm discussions of torture and cannibalism I'm done. I never really liked Annie either, but that's just… _no_."

"Please ask Levi to let Annie go on her own…" his sister pleaded.

"I will," Eren promised, "first thing tomorrow."

Mikasa went back to her book. "Thank you."

"Fine," Levi said, "seeing as you're being useless, and Annie doesn't seem as reluctant as before, you can be taken off the project."

Eren sighed in relief. "Thank you sir."

"Now go be useful," his boss muttered, "or I swear I'll fire you."

As he walked out of his office, Eren noticed Annie gathering her stuff to leave.

"Hey Annie," Eren said, "Levi said you can go alone, seeing as I'm not much help."

"W-what?!" she asked as her head snapped up to him, looking shocked. "W-why?"

"You're fine alone," Eren said, "you'll be safe."

Annie paled but nodded. "Y-yeah…safe."

Eren realized that he _wasn't_ entirely useless—Annie was fronting for Armin but figured if the worst thing happened _he_ would deal with him even though that didn't make any sense. Annie was by far the better fighter, and though Eren is bigger and stronger, he wasn't as skilled. If anything, _she'd_ keep _him_ safe from Armin.

"I'll be off," Annie said, "bye."

With that, she left.

Not half an hour later, Annie was rushing back in the office, her usually neat bun messy, her clothes rumpled, and her eyes wide and panicked.

"Annie?!" Levi asked, rushing out of the office. "What the hell—"

She collapsed in front of him, sobbing uncontrollably.

By now, everyone else had gathered around to see the normally stoic blonde nearly hysterical with tears. Reiner put his jacket around her, and Bertoldt held her close as Connie, Sasha, and Levi kept asking questions, but were only answered by more sobbing.

"W-wait," Connie said, "she's…she's…"

Upon further inspection, it turned out that there was a large splatter of blood on her white polo shirt, and another one on her cheek.

"He…he…"

Levi's eyes widened. "Did he… _escape_?!"

Annie nodded, and Eren's head spun.

"He…he killed _everyone_ …only the receptionist and I made it out alive…she said not to go home…so I came here…"

Yeah…that whole thing yesterday was _definitely_ a front.

"You…you saw him…?" Sasha was afraid to finish.

Annie nodded. "He's…he's… _insane_ …"

Eren looked to Mikasa, who was staring straight at him. He knew they were both thinking the same thing—if she hadn't convinced him not to go, he would probably be _dead_.

Or _flayed_.

"I'll call the police," Levi said, "make sure that he can't get in here."

With that, Levi stood up. "If you thought you were leaving early today, then forget it—nobody's coming in or out of this building until it's surrounded by police. I don't want that guy following you home."

Everyone nodded, and Annie let out a sob.

"C…Christa, the receptionist," Eren said, "where is she?"

"S-she's…she's in the bathroom," Annie replied, "She was feeling sick…"

Right as she said that, a familiar blonde walked inside staring directly at Eren.

"Oh," Armin Arlert said, smirking. "It's _you_ again."


	5. Beg

"Annie," he said, his smirk turning into a kind smile. "I'm sorry if I, uh… _startled_ you a bit. I just got a little too excited, that's all."

Everyone was frozen—no one was able to move.

Sasha, however, was the first to be able to speak. "H…how…why…?"

"How'd I get out?" he asked, "that's a secret. As for _why_ , you have Eren to thank for that."

Everyone turned on Eren.

"I…how the h-h-hell is this my fault!?" Eren sputtered.

Armin gave him a mocking grin. "I already told you, every time someone tells me that I can't do something, I always do it. And since you seemed convinced that I couldn't escape…"

He spread out his hands and laughed. "Voila!"

Eren sank to his knees. The weight of everyone's stares was becoming unbearable.

"Don't worry," Armin said, "I'm not killing anyone here… _yet_. But I can guarantee that this will _not_ be our last time together."

With that, he turned and walked away, but stopped when he got back to the door. "Oh, Eren?"

The brunette looked up at the blonde, filled with rage.

"You really should stop punching your landlords," he said, "because living with your _sister_ is sad."

Outraged, Eren dived at him, fist ready to connect with his face. However, Armin ducked out of the way easily, laughing.

"Do you think pissing me off is a good idea?" Armin asked, "Seeing as I know where your _sister_ lives?"

"If you touch her," Eren growled, "I swear I'll—"

"You'll _what_?" Armin asked, his tone mocking. "You look like an angry Chihuahua on a leash, barking nonsense at me."

Eren clenched his fists. Not only is he threatening his sister, he had the nerve to call _him_ little—Armin was _shorter_ than him! He can't call him _little_! "I'll…I'll _kill you_!"

Eren swung again, and as Armin ducked away again the brunette felt something cut his side. Before he could recover, Armin dug his hand into the freshly made wound, and Eren let out a scream.

"I'm sorry, what was that?" Armin asked, smiling innocently. "I couldn't hear you over the sound of your pleads for mercy."

The blonde dug his fingers even further in and ripped at the skin, and Eren fell to his knees, crying out in agony.

"Beg me to stop Eren," Armin said quietly, his innocent smile still in place. "I love hearing my victims _beg_."

Eren shook his head, but screamed again when Armin dug his fingers even deeper.

"I'm not going to stop unless you die or beg," he said, giggling slightly. "Don't be stubborn."

The brunette felt tears fall down his cheeks as he inhaled. "P…please…s…stop…"

Armin's fingers tightened. "What? I can't _hear_ you."

"Stop it!" Mikasa burst out, "Let him go!"

"I said _he_ had to beg," Armin said, "I don't care about what _you_ have to say."

Mikasa rushed towards him, but stopped when Eren screamed yet again. There were dark spots forming in the corners of his vision—he couldn't take much more of this, or else he'll die.

Armin laughed. "Ah-ah-aah…" he said teasingly, "If you interfere everyone will see what your absurdly manly muscles look like without any _flesh_."

"N-no," Eren more or less sobbed, "p-please…don't hurt her…"

"Huh?" Armin asked, "What was that?"

"Please…s-s-stop…I…I'm _begging_ you…p _-_ p… _please_ …"

The blonde ripped his hand out of Eren's side, and Eren fell to the ground with a grunt, his vision blurring.

"That'll do…for now," Armin said, smiling.

Eren looked up at him, and Armin had that same, childish grin on his face that he had when they first met—however his hair was out of his ponytail, and it cast a shadow over his crazed, bright blue eyes. He started giggling, and his childish grin turned into a sadistic one as he examined his blood-soaked hand.

"Well then Eren," he said, "I guess this is goodbye… _for_ _now_."

His world morphed into black, and all he heard was Armin's sadistic giggles.

He woke up to the sound of crying.

"M…Mikasa…?"

His sister looked up at him, teary eyed. "Eren…he…he…"

Eren was starting to freak out. "Mikasa," he asked, "did he hurt you?"

Mikasa nodded, sniffling. "He…he was right…"

"Right? About what?"

She sniffled some more, and then got her bearings. "When he… _cut_ you…he…he stuffed a piece of paper… _inside_ …the cut…"

Eren winced. "Did it say anything?"

"Y-yeah…" Mikasa said, "It…it had an address…"

He already knew, but he asked anyway—"Who's address?"

Mikasa let out another sob. "It's mine— _ours_."


	6. Murder and Reading

_**HEY THERE READER~!**_ **If you like Armin at all you should check out the poll on my Profile Page~!**

Annie fumbled with the keys as she balance two bags of groceries in one hand and unlocked her front door with another. The police had said that she should have gone into the witness protection program or leave the state—maybe the country even—but she refused.

She wasn't afraid of him.

When she finally opened the door, she got a surprise waiting on the couch.

"I was wondering if you were coming back," Armin said, casually reading a book.

Annie rolled her eyes and sighed. "Can you get the alarm for me? It's 3223."

The blonde boy blinked and turned it off for her. "You just gave a serial killer access to your house."

"You already got past it," she muttered, finally relieving the weight of the food on the countertop. "So I don't see the point."

"True," Armin agreed, "but shouldn't you be pissing yourself with fear? You were two weeks ago."

"I _had_ to look shaken up," she muttered, "I can't seem okay with watching you kill and torture innocent people."

"But _are_ you okay with watching me killing and torturing innocent people?" Armin asked, sitting back down on the couch. "Because you may be cold, but you're not a mass murderer like me."

"I prefer not to care," she said, slipping off her heels and opening the fridge. "Do you want anything?"

"No thank you," Armin declined politely, "though thanks for your hospitality."

Annie smirked. "I'm surprised that you're not trying to rape and/or kill me right now."

Armin made a face. "I don't rape people," he muttered, "I'm asexual. I don't get turned on by anything—especially not murder. I'm not _that_ messed up."

"But you _do_ enjoy watching people suffer," she said, sitting down next to him.

"I'm pretty screwed up in the brain," he admitted, "but not _that_ screwed up. Besides, my bloodlust comes and goes—torture is only an occasional hobby. I mostly like reading."

"I like reading too," Annie said, "horror novels and such."

"Is that why you're not scared shitless of me?" Armin asked, "What you saw is what you normally see in movies or read about in books?"

"I was freaking out at first," she said, "but then you let me go, and seeing as you're not threatening me right now, I have no reason to be afraid."

Armin laughed. "How do you know that won't change in a split second?"

"Because you may be a compulsive liar and criminally insane, but you're _not_ bipolar. Besides, you like me too much to kill."

" _Someone's_ getting full of themselves," Armin said, "but you're right."

Annie smirked again.

"There you are, being all prideful, again."

"I take pride in being right," she said, "and now I'm not feeling so goddamn alone all the time now."

The blonde boy's gaze softened. "So the cold exterior is just a shell, huh?"

Her grin vanished. "You don't know me."

"I do," he said, "because you're like me."

"I don't eat people for a hobby."

Armin's brow twitched. "I _said_ that happened _once_! I _hated_ it!"

"Fine," Annie said, "I don't _kill_ people for a hobby."

"But you _have_ been bullied," he said, "you're hurting, and you're cold and mean to everyone as a way of venting that anger."

Annie looked at him, and he shrugged. "I was planning to be a psychiatrist before becoming a psychopathic killer."

"Is that right?"

The boy nodded. "Y-yeah," he said, "I was thinking that I'd help people with similar problems—be someone they can connect with."

"…so _you'd_ also have someone to connect with," Annie finished, "that makes sense."

"But I snapped before then," he said, looking up at the ceiling. "So that was a bust. Now I kill people to vent my anger, because let's face it—there are a _lot_ of people who no one will miss, right?"

"But you even kill people who _will_ be missed," Annie pointed out.

"That's because despite having some people miss them, more people want them gone."

Annie's eyes widened. "You mean…you're…?"

Armin turned to her and smiled. "I'm known as the 'god of death' in some circles. Though sometimes I get some complaints—some people regret employing me, and they end up _blaming_ me and calling the police."

"Huh," she said, "you kill people for charity work."

"Sometimes I get paid," he said, "Sometimes they just give me food. Once this little girl—she was only in seventh grade—she saved up for months to pay me to kill an idiot boy in her algebra class."

"Did…did you do it?"

Armin scratched his head. "I scared him at first, injuring him, but she ended up getting mad at me, withholding the money until he was dead. I made it seem like he was dead, but when he was in the hospital she _still_ didn't pay me."

"That's one fucked up little kid…" Annie commented.

"You're telling me," he said, "she was crying because she thought that I couldn't actually do it—like learning that Santa wasn't real or something."

"And we all know how you react when someone says you can't do something," Annie said, smirking.

Armin sighed and smiled at the memory. "I did my worst—though it was kind of sad, seeing as the guy was twelve or so…but she looked so happy when she found out that he was tortured brutally before being killed. She even gave me some Reese's for torturing him first."

The blonde looked down, and Annie noticed that he looked genuinely happy—he didn't look crazed or sadistic. His blue eyes twinkled with nostalgia, and his smile was gentle.

He looked… _cute_.

"She gave me a big hug," he said softly, "and thanked me for being the god of death."

"And that's where you got that from?" Annie asked.

Armin nodded. "Yeah…it stuck. She had told other kids, but nobody was able to prove anything, so the police didn't get involved. She only got in trouble for saying such 'ludicrous' and 'unbelievable' things."

"And let me guess," Annie said, "Reese's is your favorite candy?"

"Yes," he said, "even though I was allergic to nuts."

"Then why the hell would you eat it!?"

Armin shrugged. "Either way, I ended up getting over my allergy that way. So that's another plus!"

Annie looked at Armin, who was beaming up at her. His eyes were beautiful, and his smile charming—nothing like the crazy murderer she saw that day in the office or in the asylum. He was scratching his head and grinning, almost like a little kid.

He was _adorable_.

She smiled back at him. "That's nice. You're like a psycho Santa helping kids in need!"

"Okay it happened _once_ ," he said, "after that, I made sure I never appeared to anyone who was below high school."


	7. Can't Not

"You can stay for as long as you like," Connie said, opening the door.

Jean whistled. "Connie I didn't know you were so _rich_!"

Eren looked around the mansion with awe. It was mostly marble, with the roof open and lined with gold. There were intricate marble pillars, marble stairs—though the edges were covered with carpet—and near the back was a gigantic pool that had to be no shallower than eight or so feet.

"This is only the front porch," Connie said, grinning.

"Connie's mom was a realtor," Sasha said, "and his dad an actor. So he's got it made."

"If you're so rich," Mikasa said, "why are you working?"

Connie scratched his head. "I didn't want to be a realtor or an actor—but I _did_ enjoy journalism, and cop shows."

"But you didn't go interview Armin," Jean said, "because you got too scared."

Eren rounded on Jean, pissed. "Armin is a crazy mass murderer who messes with your head. He had every goddamn right in the universe to be afraid of him."

"Guys—" Connie tried to interrupt, to no avail.

"I would have done it," Jean said, "and I wouldn't have pissed him off either—because let's not forget this is _your_ fault!"

"Damn you—!" Eren went to throw a punch, but Mikasa stepped between the two of them.

"You're being rude," she said, "We're _guests_ here. Connie didn't have to take us all in."

Eren hung his head. "S-sorry Connie."

"Y-yeah," Jean said, looking away.

"I-It's alright," Connie said, "A-anyway, this place has state of the art security—my dad _is_ an actor after all. It's not Secret Service perfect, but it'll do for now."

"So he _can't_ get in here?" Christa asked.

Connie scratched his head. "He probably wouldn't _risk_ it, because there's too high of a chance of getting caught, not to mention the publicity of everything. But I'd rather not use _can't_."

"Because it eggs him on," Eren said, "yeah…"

"And you would know all about _that_ , _Yeager_ ," Jean muttered.

"Hey shut the _fuck_ up _Kirstein_ ," Eren growled.

"You're doing it again," Mikasa said, "stop it."

Connie laughed. "Good thing this place is so big…easier to avoid each other."

Eren couldn't agree more.

"It sucks Annie couldn't come," Connie said, sitting down on the massive couch.

"I'm surprised, honestly," Sasha said as she opened a bag of potato chips and sat down next to him. "Seeing as _she_ was the one who saw Armin…go crazy. I mean, what we saw at the office was probably only a _fraction_ of what he could do…"

"Don't worry," Connie said, "even if he _was_ dumb enough to come here, I'd protect you."

"Get a _room_ guys!" Jean shouted as he disappeared into the kitchen.

Connie stuck out his tongue at him and wrapped an arm around his best friend, who cuddled closer. "We _are_ in a room—besides, this is _my_ parent's house!"

"Where _are_ your parents Connie?" Eren asked.

Connie sighed. "They're…they passed away a while back. Car accident."

"I'm so sorry," Mikasa said.

"Don't worry about it," Connie said, "It's alright."

There was an awkward silence, and then Jean came back in the room with some food. "Wow," he said, noticing the change in mood. "Who _died_?"

"Connie's parents," Sasha said bluntly, eating some more chips.

"I…I…I'm sorry," Jean said, looking uncomfortable.

"It's alright," he said.

Another awkward silence.

"Oh!" Connie said, "I need to show you guys the eighty-inch plasma screen! I have literally every game console known to man _and_ chimp connected to this."

"Man _and_ chimp?" Eren asked, confused.

"My aunt's a renowned scientist," he said, "and created a gaming console for monkeys. She got me one for my thirteenth birthday as a joke."

"Damn," Jean said, "You've got it made."

Connie merely shrugged.

Sasha got up and grabbed the large remote off the table. "Here we go…it's HDMI 3 for the WiiU, right?"

"Yeah," he said, "and don't forget to add the music when we showcase the remotes!"

"Yeah yeah I know," Sasha laughed, waving a dismissive hand.

 _I'm not going to kill anyone here_ yet, _but I can guarantee this will_ not _be our last time together._

Eren sighed. He didn't know what's going to happen, but he knew that he had to keep an eye out for _him_. Connie said his house had state-of-the-art security, but not Secret Service perfect.

He was starting to think that anything less than that wouldn't help.

At all.


	8. Challenge Accepted

**Since the last chapter was nothing but filler, here's another!**

"You're shitting me," Annie gasped as she stared at the TV screen with wide eyes.

 _"_ _This just in," a reporter said, "A new psychopath has arisen and demanding blood—he claims to be Armin Arlert, but the police are thinking differently."_

Armin—whom has been appearing at her house more often—looked insulted. "I would _never_ rape my victims before killing them!" Armin said indignantly, "And I would _never_ eat them!"

"But that one time—"

"We don't _talk_ about that one time," Armin said darkly.

The blonde girl laughed. "Okay, fine."

"But seriously," Armin said, "he only targets women and children. His hobby is stabbing pregnant mothers in the stomach. That's _not_ me."

"Really?"

Armin gave her an unamused stare. "I have a set of rules I go by," he said, "I don't appear to kids below the tenth grade. I don't kill anyone below the tenth grade. I don't kill pregnant women—if you're _really_ insistent, I'll wait until the baby's born. I may be screwed up, but with me there's a limit. There would have to be _extremely_ extraordinary circumstances in order to break one of those rules."

Annie realized that he was right—all of his files backed it up. Other than the boy he recalled, all the victims were above the tenth grade.

"Huh," Annie said, "You're quite the vigilante huh? Killing for only righteous and good reasons…"

"Oh I don't care what your reasons are," he said, "the only time I'll take that into consideration is if it breaks any of my rules. If you're some nerd who got rejected by a pink bitch, then I'll kill her—but if she's pregnant then sorry."

"That's a stupid reason to kill someone."

"I know."

They both looked at the screen as they showed a picture of the man on the screen—he had black hair, brown eyes, a five o'clock shadow and a torn football jersey on.

"Man he's as stupid as ever," Armin sighed, "they never got my picture until I was first caught."

Annie laughed. "Do you know him?"

"Too well," he replied, "Daniel Davison, or DD for short by his colleagues on the football team."

"That explains the jersey," Annie commented.

Armin nodded. "Yeah," he said, "He was in my second period physics class."

"You went to _school_ with him!?"

"Yeah…and now he's a nut."

Annie turned to him, serious. "What school did you go to?"

"St. Maria High School," he replied, "why?"

"I just had to make a mental note never to send my kid there."

They both turned to the screen again as the reported talked again.

 _"_ _The man is known as Daniel Davison, or DD by his friends from his high school football team he used to play. He left this note on the wall written in the blood of one of his last victims saying, 'I know you're out now Arlert, and I'm going to get you and your family.'"_

"Funny he says that," Armin said, "but my whole family's dead already."

 _"_ _This genuinely scares me," the reporter said, "because if there's going to be an all-out war between two psychopaths, then I don't want to be a part of it."_

"I just escaped," Armin complained, "and I kill people because I can. I don't want people to think it's a _war_ …"

 _"_ _Oh dear…" the reporter said, "There appears to be a tape that was sent to MSNBC from DD…I'm not sure if we should show it."_

"Well now that you brought it up," Armin sighed, " _everyone's_ going to want to watch it."

The video was on the screen and it showed a man around Annie's age with a beard and a ripped jersey. His jeans were skinny and ripped, and his eyes were a bright red-ish orange color.

"Color contacts," Armin muttered, "pathetic…he's trying to act like the opposite of me."

"I'm DD," he said, "and Armin, if you're listening to this, then I'm going to find you! I'm going to fuck you up!"

"So you say," he muttered.

It took all of Annie's willpower not to laugh at Armin's commentary. "You don't _sound_ convinced," she said.

"The last time he said that I tore him apart."

Annie looked from Armin to the man on the screen. "You mean _he's_ the quarterback who made you snap?"

He merely nodded.

"You can't touch me!" He continued, "I'm going to get you back and kill you! And you can't do _shit_ about it!"

Armin grinned.

"Oh man," Annie sighed, "I know that smile…"

"I'll find you and kill you," he repeated, "and until then, bye-bye!"

The tape ended, and Armin began to giggle to himself.

"Armin?"

"Fine," he said, "I accept your challenge."

Annie sighed again. "Of course you did."


	9. How to Annoy Eren and Make Annie Smile

"Did you guys change offices?"

Everyone stood still—they all knew that voice.

Eren looked up and lo and behold—Armin Arlert himself was standing in the doorway, looking slightly confused. He wore some new clothes—a white button up shirt and some dark jeans with a pair of converse instead of his orange jumpsuit Eren had grown accustomed to seeing him in.

"You didn't put it into any public records," he said, "did you do that on purpose?"

"You're damn right I did," Levi said, "not that it did us any good…"

Armin laughed, though it seemed more like a kid's giggle than a psychopath's. "If you're going to try to pull _that_ on me, you should at _least_ move buildings—though switching cities would be more effective."

"And more expensive," Levi muttered, "Now if you'll excuse me, I need to call the cops."

"Don't bother," he said, "they're already on their way. I just wanted to tell you about the most recent idiot running around town."

Levi heaved a sigh. "Fine," he said, "what is it?"

At that, Armin's smile turned into a grin. "I know where he's hiding."

"That's good for you," Levi said, "but we're a magazine company, not a police force."

"Well then I'll just be on my way," the blonde said, turning to walk away. "It's not like I can tell the police or anything…so he'll just run around until he gets your wife."

Eren looked from his boss to Armin. "Levi you're _married_?!"

Everyone turned to him, and he sighed. "It wasn't any of your brat's business—but yes, I am. How _you_ knew that—"

"Isn't any of _your_ business," Armin interrupted, "But would you look at that, the police are already here. I should go."

"Y-you think you're just going to walk out of here!?" Eren demanded, enraged. "Well you're wrong!"

"Remember the last time you tried to stop me?" Armin asked innocently, "I hospitalized you for two weeks. And I was being _nice_."

With a cry, Eren jumped from his desk and lunged at him, ready to hit him. However before he can reach him, his sister pulled him back.

"As infuriating as it sounds," she said, "he's right. You're in no condition to attack him."

"I'm fully recovered!" he argued, "What do you _mean_ I'm—"

He stopped and stared at his sister, finally comprehending. "You…you don't think I can beat him, do you?"

"Eren," Mikasa said, "You know I love you. But—"

"But you're better at _everything_!" he shouted, "Better at math, better at writing, better at _combat_ —!"

"Guys…" Connie said weakly.

" _I_ have to be the one to protect you!" Mikasa burst out, "Because I promised I would!"

"You didn't protect me when he tore into me like a piece of _paper_ did you!?"

"Guys—!" Connie tried again.

"Eren I _couldn't_ —"

"If you're so _great_ , why don't you go beat him up, _right_ now! He's standing right there!"

" _GUYS!_ "

The two turned on Connie. " _What!?_ "

"He left."

Everyone looked to the doorway Armin was standing at before, and realized Connie was right—he was nowhere to be seen.

"The police should have been here by now," Levi muttered, sighing. "So he must have either lied or killed the person who called, telling them he's somewhere else."

Eren sighed and stormed over to his desk, plopping angrily down into his chair. So he disappeared again, and he didn't even give us the useful information he boasted he had.

 _Honestly_ , he thought, _it was like he just wanted to come here to irritate everyone_.

"Of _course_ that's the only reason I came by," Armin said, laughing. "Messing with Eren is amusing…like playing with a baby—you know it's nowhere as smart as you, so watching it struggle makes you laugh."

"I sincerely hope you never have kids," Annie replied, setting down the large bucket of popcorn in between the two of them.

"I don't mean _torturing_ the baby," Armin said, "I just mean watching it attempt to walk or grab something. Jeez who do you take me for, DD?"

Annie smiled. "Of course not…you're a more _civilized_ psychopath…no, more like a high-functioning sociopath."

"Thank you Dr. Watson."

"Wait you _understood_ that reference!?" Annie asked, turning to him.

"Of course!" Armin said, "I've read _and_ watched almost every Sherlock Holmes remake, _and_ read the original series half a million times!"

"Well," she said, "We have popcorn and soda right here, and I have my trusty laptop with Netflix, Hulu, _and_ Crackle. You know what _that_ means."

"Binge watching!" Armin replied happily, "Yes! I haven't done this in like, _five_ years!"

"I didn't see a TV in that cell of yours," Annie agreed, "so we shall watch!"

"But I don't think you'll find anything on _Crackle_ ," he muttered, "All of their anime is in _dub_."

"No," Annie argued, " _some_ of it's in sub…though that's probably because they don't have the fanbase to provide the budget to make an English dub."

"So what you're saying," Armin said, "is that only the _crappy_ ones are in sub."

"Yes."

Armin rolled his eyes. "Alright—enough arguing, more binging!"

 **ARUANI FLUFFIES~!**

 **Anyway, my charger ended up being usable, so that's good—and the power's been holding up for a while, which is also good. Unfortunately, some of the chapters for other stories have disappeared, so I'll have to rewrite those…again…*sigh***

 **Anywho, Read &Review~!**


	10. Taking Care of Your Pet Psychopath

Six hours later, shit hit the fan.

They were on their ninth episode of _Elementary_ when Annie said, "It's getting pretty late…maybe you should head back home."

"I'm a felon," Armin snorted, "this place is the closest place to home I get. But you're right, I should head out."

Annie paused the show and looked at him. "Wait…you don't have a place to live?"

Armin gave her a look that said, _Are you serious?_

"I…you have my alarm code," Annie said, "You can just stay here. I don't have any visitors—I don't even get any mail aside from bills."

"Annie," he said seriously, "I know that we both want me to stay, but you'd be hiding a known fugitive. I don't want you to go to jail because I was binge watching in your living room when a neighbor decides to be unusually nice and…bakes you cookies or something."

"You sure haven't had touch with the outside world for a while," Annie sighed, "besides, I've already made it clear I don't associate with any of my neighbors. I recall someone calling for help several years ago, and I didn't bother even calling 911."

"Damn," Armin said. Then he seemed to remember something. "Wait…was that the house to the left? The one with the dream catcher in the front window?"

Annie stared at him. "That was you torturing a victim, wasn't it?"

He didn't respond.

"Anyway," Annie said, "back to the point—you should stay here."

"Annie…"

"I don't want you wandering the streets where you'll have a higher chance of getting caught!"

"Annie—"

"You don't even have to do anything—it'll be like owning a dog! A rabid dog!"

Suddenly Armin leaned over the popcorn and kissed her.

It was slow and deliberate, and his mouth tasted like the popcorn they'd been eating for the past six hours, but she also tasted something citrusy—most likely oranges.

Annie didn't realize she was kissing him back until he drew away. "Annie," he whispered.

Then on an impulse, Annie shoved the empty popcorn bowl aside and kissed him passionately. He eagerly returned the kiss, shoving roughly her back on the couch and moving from her lips to her neck.

She was in blissful heaven until he suddenly pulled away, looking completely confused.

"What's wrong?" she asked, her breath shallow. "I can be quiet if that's the problem—even if we're loud the neighbors wouldn't care…"

When Armin averted his eyes and blushed, she understood.

"Armin," she said slowly, "are…are you a _virgin_?"

His face grew even redder as he got off of her, much to her disappointment. "I-I told you I was asexual," he muttered, "and I was bullied, so I wasn't getting any in high school…"

Annie almost laughed out loud at how embarrassed he looked, but remembered that he's still a mass murderer she probably shouldn't make fun of. "Well," she said, "If it's any consolation, I am too."

"T-then why'd so sound so surprised?" he demanded, his stutter making Annie giggle a little.

"I don't know," she replied, "I guess it never clicked before…"

He looked down, his face still red. "Well…it's true…and I don't want to—"

"Please do," she said way too quickly, and she cursed herself on the inside. When Armin gave her a confused—and slightly judgmental—look, she elaborated. "Well…I wouldn't _mind_ it…but if you feel uncomfortable—"

She wasn't quite sure what happened, but before she finished her sentence they were already kissing again.

Annie gasped as a hand slipped under her shirt and squeezed her breast.

"A…A…Armin…" she whimpered.

"Annie," he whispered back.

The words _I love you_ were on the tip of her tongue, but she held it back.

She got the feeling he did too.

"Hey Annie," Eren said, "Do you…?"

He stopped and stared at his coworker for a second. She had a smile on her face, and looked like she was daydreaming.

He'd _never_ seen her smile before.

"Annie?" he tried again, waving a hand in front of her face.

She didn't even blink.

" _Annie_!" he shouted, slamming his hands on her desk.

 _That_ woke her up. "What do you want?" she demanded, glaring at him.

"You're freaking everyone out," he said, "you walked in here humming, and now you're grinning like a crazy person."

"Eren," Sasha said, peeking over the cubicle, "you sound like a douche."

"Well excuse me for being happy for once in my life," Annie muttered, "I'll just kill myself and let you feel better."

"See what I mean?" Sasha said, "She was finally feeling happy for once when you started acting douche-y!"

"She wasn't even _working_ ," Eren muttered.

"She's gotten more done than _you_ ," Sasha shot back.

" _Burn!_ " Connie echoed from across the room.

"Shut up!" Levi shouted from his office, "It's bad enough I had to separate you two like schoolchildren!"

" _Sorry Levi~!_ " Connie and Sasha both said in unison.

"Just get back to work," he muttered.

"But seriously," Eren said, lowering his voice. "Why are you _happy_ when there are _two_ psychos running around instead of just one? It's bad enough that stupid blonde with the bowl cut is acting stupid, now we have one who's competing for the most kills? Humanity would _die out_ at this rate."

"Well then I hope you're one of the first to go," she muttered.

Eren glared at her. "If he comes after me—"

"You'll get your ass handed to you like you did last time."

"Well _you're_ so good at fighting," he said, "why don't you teach _me_ how to fight?"

Annie started to laugh.

"I was being serious."

"So am I," she said, "That's the funniest thing I've ever heard. There's no way—"

" _Please_ Annie!" he begged, suddenly getting down on his knees. "I just want to protect my sister!"

"Then ask _her_ ," she said, "she's just as good at fighting as me."

Eren got up and glared at her. "Forget I asked."

"Way ahead of you," she replied.

The brunette growled, then walked back to his desk.


	11. Newlyweds?

"I'm home," Annie said, closing the door.

Armin looked at her with a smile. "Hi darling."

Annie stopped in her tracts. "Dear god we _are_ starting to act like newlyweds, aren't we?"

"Well," Armin said, "We _did_ have our honeymoon last night, didn't we?"

She felt her face flush as he stood from the couch and circled around her, like a predator stalking its prey. "Aw," he said, "getting embarrassed? You seemed so shameless last night—"

On instinct, Annie elbowed him in the stomach.

"T-too far?" he asked, falling to the ground with a thud and holding his stomach. "S…sorry…"

"N-no it's my fault," she said hurriedly, "It…nevermind."

Armin looked up at her, bright blue eyes twinkling as he smiled. "Sorry," he repeated, holding back laughter.

"It's okay," she said, "just…getting used to this."

"Getting used to… _what_?" Armin asked, standing back up. "Our…"

"… _relationship_ ," she finished.

It was… _interesting_ , to say in the least. She was cold and hardly talked to _anyone_ —the thought of having a boyfriend was completely foreign to her until Armin had appeared in her house. And Armin…

She didn't need to go into detail about _him_.

"Annie," he said quietly, "I…"

A knock on the door froze both of them.

Annie began to panic. "You need to—"

"Way ahead of you," he said as he disappeared into the kitchen.

She looked out the peephole and saw that it _wasn't_ the mailman, but Eren Yeager.

"I know you're in there Annie!" he said, "And I'm not leaving until you let me in!"

"Get off my property!" she shouted, "I don't want to talk to you!"

"No!"

Annie stifled a long string of curses. "Get out before I call the cops!"

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Armin whispered.

"Of course not," she whispered back, "I'm bluffing."

"I can _hear_ you!" Eren shouted, "there's someone _else_ in there, huh?!"

Annie sighed. She wished she still had Mr. Fluff, a fully grown German Shepherd that she used to own until he had to be put down several months ago. He could easily rip this idiot to shreds.

He probably would have stopped Armin from coming into her house too, but she found herself lacking in complaints about that.

"Say it's your boyfriend," Armin whispered, "that way you're not lying."

"I'm in the middle of having sex with my boyfriend!" Annie called out, "Go away!"

"That's _not_ what I meant…" Armin muttered, "but hey, whatever works, I guess…."

There was an awkward silence, then Eren spoke. "I…wow, I didn't know you had a boyfriend. What's he like?"

" _Get out of here!_ " Annie bellowed.

"Okay okay!" Eren said, and Annie looked through the peephole and saw him go off to the side and look through one of the blinded windows.

Frustrated, Annie went into her room and grabbed the fully loaded rifle hidden under her bed and stormed outside.

" _I said get the fuck off my property!_ " Annie screamed, cocking the gun and aiming it at Eren.

"I'm going I'm going!" Eren shouted, rushing towards his car. "This is the last time I'm ever visiting _you_ ever again!"

" _Good_!" She replied as she slammed the door shut and checked through the peephole. Eren turned his car on and drove away like it was stolen.

"Is it safe to come out?" Armin asked.

"Yeah," she said, "I scared him off—"

She looked around in the kitchen and noticed that it was empty.

"…Armin?"

"Give me a sec," he said.

She looked around in the pantry and the cabinets, but he was nowhere to be found. "Where _are_ you!?" she asked, confused.

Suddenly the stove opened, and Armin rolled out and landed on all fours.

"There we go!" he said cheerfully as he straightened his clothes and closed the stove door.

"You…you his in the _stove_?" she asked, " _why_?!"

"Nobody ever checks it," he stated matter of factly, "and I'm small enough to fit in it. How else would I be able to hide so effectively from the police?"

Annie rolled her eyes, not even bothering to respond. "I'm going to change. You can cook, can't you?"

"I said _boyfriend_ not _domestic house slave_ ," Armin whined.

"You're a felon," she replied, "think of it as paying for what you've done."

It's funny—with his attitude, it's easy to forget he's a mass murderer.

Armin made a long, exaggerated sigh. "At least it's not prison," he sighed, opening the fridge, "I _hated_ prison."

"Why?" Annie asked, disappearing into the other room and reappearing with an oversized white t-shirt in her hands.

"I don't play well with others," he stated simply.

Fair enough, she supposed.

"I'm making noodles," he said, getting out two packets of ramen from the pantry.

"That's _boring_ ," Annie complained.

"Not the way _I_ make it," Armin countered, "just you wait."

"Fine," she muttered, going back into the other room. "Don't burn my house down."

"No promises!" was the blonde's overly cheerful response.


	12. Scream for Me

**A Warning—Armin's going to go psycho-crazy in this one, so this is where the "Horror" part of the story kicks in. However you can read all the way to the last page break and still keep up with the story :)**

"The police commissioner seems to want to keep quiet on this case," Eren said, spinning aimlessly in his chair. "These two psychopaths are really duking it out, aren't they?"

"Actually, that's not true," Sasha said, peeking over the cubicle. "Apparently it's only DD who's killing people. Armin's been laying low ever since…y'know…"

"Of course," Eren said, "but he's bound to turn up eventually. Then that ass will finally get what's coming to him."

Right as he said that, said blonde walked through the door.

"Eren," Armin said, "I'm taking your car."

It took him several seconds to realize what was happening, but by then Armin had already picked up his keys and walked out of the door.

"Wait…did he just…?" Sasha trailed off.

The sound of a car's engine starting up woke Eren from his stupor. "That son of a bitch!" he shouted rushing out the door and down the hallway. When he made it outside, his car was gone.

" _FUCK!_ " he screamed at the top of his lungs, falling onto his knees.

He couldn't believe he let that happen—he literally just walked up to him, took his keys, and drove away. And he couldn't stop him.

* * *

"You just live for bothering Yeager, don't you?" Annie asked as they watched TV together in her bedroom.

"That _was_ the sole purpose of breaking out, yes," Armin replied, "but my bloodlust is starting to come back."

Annie blinked. "B…bloodlust?"

Armin looked over to her and must have read her expression, because he smiled reassuringly.

"You're fine," he said, "I'm not going to hurt you because you haven't given me a reason to. I might just go pick some random innocent off the street or something."

She couldn't deny that she kind of sensed this coming—he had started recalling victims randomly and how difficult it was to get bloodstains out of clothing. He had even gone as far as to ask if she hated anyone enough for him to kill.

"Then go sate it," Annie said.

That perked his interest. "W-what?!" He asked, his beautifully bright blue eyes twinkling with confusion. "Y-you won't tell anyone?!"

"I don't want you to kill your victim though," Annie said, "just… _scare_ them a bit. And absolutely _no_ cutting off of limbs and making a treasure hunt."

"Aww," he whined, "I haven't done that in _forever_! _Please_?! I promise they won't bleed to death!"

" _No_ ," Annie said sternly, "Just shake her up. And no removal of any body part other than skin and no more than an inch of hair."

Armin hung his head. "That's no fun," he huffed.

"I never said you couldn't cut into their flesh," Annie pointed out, "or to not break any bones."

His face lit up again. "Hooray for loopholes! And you _swear_ you won't tell anyone?"

Annie smiled. "Pinky promise."

She held his hand out and he did the same, crossing each other's pinkies and sealing the deal.

* * *

After getting the groceries, Mikasa walked down the street to where the car was parked.

"I wonder what Eren's doing.." she murmured to herself, "He better not be trying to cook again…"

The hair on the back of her neck stood on end, and she dodged a knife being flung towards her face, dropping the groceries in the process. After righting herself, she looked up and saw that it came from the alleyway she just passed by.

Mikasa sighed. She didn't need this. "I know you're there," she said, "come out!"

Another knife whizzed by, and she dodged and lunged into the dark alleyway.

Big mistake.

Suddenly two knives pierced her thighs, making her fall down to the ground with a cry of pain. She tried to look at her assailant, but suddenly she was blindfolded and gagged, and something hit her temple, making her lose consciousness.

* * *

"You're finally awake," a sickeningly familiar voice said.

Mikasa tried to sit up, but realized her shoulders and her knees were in pain, and she remembered she got stabbed in both thighs. She was on her stomach, and her neck was sore.

"Couldn't have you screaming in an overly crowded place," Armin said, grinning. "But here nobody can here you."

She tried to look around, but suddenly a kick hit her in the side, making her grunt.

"Well _that's_ no fun," Armin pouted. Then, in a fluid motion, he whipped out a butterfly knife and tossed it at her, which hit her in the left shoulder blade.

She grunted again, gritting her teeth. She wasn't going to scream.

"Well _fine_ ," Armin said, "be that way."

She felt a weight on the back of her thighs, and something cut into her back, making her gasp.

 _Don't scream…_

It took her a moment to realize that Armin had straddled her and began to cut into her further, making her whimper. "D-don't…please…"

"Go on and beg," Armin whispered into her ear, "I _love_ it when my victims _beg_."

Suddenly a sharp pain entered the small of her back, and then she felt Armin tear her skin apart.

 _Don't scream…don't scream…_

"It hurts, doesn't it?" Armin asked, "Being so _torn apart_ over your loved ones. Trying so hard to keep yourself _together_ , even after the hell you've witnessed…the hell you've _caused_ …"

She gasped. _How did he know_?

"It wasn't hard," he said, "it was all over the news. You poor, _poor_ girl, unwittingly murdering your own parents…your perfect life _torn_ to pieces—and it was all _your fault_."

 _Don't scream don't scream don't scream DON'T SCREAM—_

"S- _stop_ ," Mikasa begged, "p-p- _please_!"

He dug his hands under her skin and slowly— _agonizingly_ —ripped it from her muscle, giggling uncontrollably as he did so. His laughter made his hands shake, causing even more pain every time his nails scrapped the sensitive tissue below.

"Scream for me," he whispered.

And scream she did.

It only made everything worse, but she couldn't stop as Armin tore her apart, his sadistic giggles burning in her eardrums. The sudden flashbacks from her past weren't helping either, her parent's deaths repeating over and over in her mind.

She was in hell.

"You have such… _melodic_ screams," Armin murmured into her ear, "scream louder… _louder_ …"

He slowly— _excruciatingly—_ raked his nails on the tender tissue that was previously protected by her skin, and she screamed even louder, the pain unbearable. Maybe someone will hear her and help her escape this horrible torment…

Armin seemed to read her mind. "You're so…so _very_ far away…no one can save you now… _no one_ …"

This continued for god knows how long—could have been hours, could have been minutes—and then Armin suddenly stood up, the weight being relieved from her thighs and her back in horrifically searing pain. Her throat was raw from screaming so long and hard, and her muscles ached from her previous wounds.

"Oh how I want to kill you…" Armin said, eyes wide as he swayed back and forth slightly. "I…I want to kill you so badly…"

He dropped his head down and giggled to himself, his hands bunching up by his mouth making a poor attempt at holding his insane laughter contained. "I…I want to tear you limb from limb…make you cry out for help that'll never come…make you suffer…"

Shivers ran down Mikasa's injured spine, her blood running cold onto the concrete floor. _This is the monster he truly is_ , she thought as he continued to giggle like an excited little kid. His hands ran through his now messy blonde locks, leaving streaks of crimson across his face and in his hair.

She can only look on in horror as the boy slowly began to lose control of himself.

But then suddenly took a deep breath and looked back up at her, smiling kindly—not a single trace of insanity lingered in his eyes. Without the blood on his face, hair and clothing, he would have actually been able to pass for cute.

"Unfortunately I can't do that," he said, "Eren wouldn't appreciate that, and I wouldn't have anything hanging over his head."

Mikasa let out a sob. "P…please…just…just leave him…leave him alone…"

"You know I can't do that," Armin chastised, placing a foot on her torn back, making her shriek as the flesh burned. A glint of malice flickered in his eyes. "He amuses me…as do you…"

Armin giggled again and Mikasa let out another sob. "You may be my favorite toy…"

"N-n-no! P-p-please!" Mikasa begged, "I-I-I won't press charges! I-I got into an accident! J-j-just please, _please_ …!" She broke down in tears. "I…I can't…I can't take anymore… _please_ …"

"But Mikasa…" Armin pouted, looking like a child. "The more you beg to stop…"

He drove his foot into her back, making her cry out again.

"…the more I'll torment you."

 **Wow this escalated quickly…**

 **Anywhoo, Read &Review~!**


	13. Inhuman

Eren awoke to the sound of screaming.

Rushing down a flight of spiraling stairs, he realized he was the second to last person already down there—Connie and Sasha were already down there, and by Sasha's hysterical sobbing Eren assumed it was her that screamed.

"What happened?" Eren demanded as he reached them, "What's going…on…"

He froze in his tracks—his least favorite person was here.

"Oh hello Eren Yeager," Armin said, his smile sweet but his eyes as cold as ice.

He was soaked in blood—his once white button-down shirt was sticky and wet, and his hands were stained red—there were even massive amounts on his face and hair, dripping onto the clean, white marble floor.

"Sorry about the mess," the blonde apologized, "but I wanted to give this back to you."

He nodded towards the ground, and Eren suppressed a wave of nausea.

His sister was laid haphazardly on the ground, also covered in blood. Her back looked like someone scrapped it with a cheese grater and he couldn't tell if she was even breathing.

"Y…you…"

"You should've keep a closer eye on her," Armin chastised, "at first I wasn't going to kill her, but she put up too good of a fight—but it wasn't good enough in the end."

Eren's hands shook with fury, but he forced out a deep breath. He wanted to kill him right then and there, but there was no telling what he would do—especially after _this_. "Get. Out."

Armin raised his hands. "I was fine with waiting for the cops, but okay. Chao."

The brunette closed his eyes and let out another deep breath.

When he opened them, he was laying in bed in Connie's guestroom, the light from the well-risen sun burning his tired eyes.

 _It was just a nightmare…_

" _Eren!"_

Eren sat up quickly. "S-Sasha?" he called back, getting out of bed.

He rushed down the stairs right as Sasha was running up them, causing them to bump into each other and tumble back down.

"O-ow…" Sasha moaned, holding her head.

"S-sorry," Eren apologized, "now what is it? You yelled my name."

Sasha's eyes widened. "O-oh…it's…it's your sister."

Eren's blood ran cold.

"She's…she's in the hospital."

"Oh god…"

His sister was pale as a ghost, her breath gently moving the sheets with each weak exhale. Her hair was disheveled and her face looked tense, as if she was having a nightmare.

Eren felt a tear fall down his cheek. "Mikasa…?"

He saw her eyelids flitter open, her eyes dull. "E…Eren..?"

"I…I'm sorry Mikasa," Eren said, more tears escaping his eyes. "I…"

"It's…it's not your fault," she whispered, "I…it was… _him_ …"

 _Him._ There could be only one person she could be referring to.

"My bad."

Eren spun towards the door. He'd know that voice anywhere.

"How the actual _fuck_ did you get in here!?" Eren demanded, standing in front of his sister's hospital bed.

"I have my ways," Armin said vaguely, "besides, I wanted to see my latest masterpiece."

"Get the fuck out of here!" Eren bellowed, swinging a fist.

Armin ducked out of the way, laughing. "Fine fine, I'll be on my way!"

He turned to leave right as a nurse walked up to him. "You're not supposed to be in here! You're not related to the victim!"

"I'm sorry," he apologized, "I…I just wanted to see if my friend's okay!"

"Oh that's—!"

Armin shot him a smile, though the anger in his eyes told him to play along.

"…not fair…" Eren finished with a mumble, "He's our…best friend…"

Mikasa snorted. " _Your_ best friend."

Eren rolled his eyes. "Fine, _my_ best friend. He was just—"

"I-I'll be on my way," Armin said, bowing his head low and rushing out of the room.

The nurse sighed. "This happens way too often…" she then glared at Eren. "You're related, right?"

"She's adopted," Eren answered, "I got all the paperwork to prove it."

"Armin."

The blonde was sitting down on her couch, not looking up from his book. "Yeah?"

Annie didn't know how to gently approach the subject gnawing at her in the inside, so she decided to be blunt. "You almost killed Mikasa."

"I followed your rules," he replied, "her limbs stayed intact, and I didn't cut any hair off."

"She's my coworker."

"She was a random innocent on the street, just like anyone else."

"You targeted her on purpose."

"Only when I saw her walking down the street."

The blonde girl wanted to tear her hair out. "Why _her_ of all people? You had the choice of _anyone_ on that street—"

"Why not?" he asked, still not looking at her. "From what you've told me about her, you don't like her at all. I thought I was doing you a favor—or are you rethinking letting me stay here because you've seen just how bad of a person I can be?"

Annie didn't know how to reply because he was dead right.

When no response came from her, Armin finally discarded his book. "Listen," he said, "if you _really_ have that much of a problem with it, you would have called the cops already. Why haven't you?"

The girl's mouth gaped open and closed like a fish, not a single sound coming out.

"If you really are afraid of me," Armin continued, "you would have at _least_ thrown me out of your house. Why haven't you?"

She began to tremble as a variety of emotions ransacked her mind.

"Here's something you need to understand," he said firmly, "you're not as inhuman as you attempt to paint yourself to be. You're okay with having a mass murderer in your house because you think I won't hurt you—and you're right—but when I say I'm going to pick an innocent off the street you have to think, 'what if the innocent he chooses is someone close to me?'"

"Y-y-you _did_ do it on purpose," she stammered, stumbling back.

"Only to prove a point," he replied, standing. "You're human. You have fears and weaknesses. You have feelings, no matter how much you attempt to hide them. You weren't afraid of me before, but now you're scared shitless because I brutally tortured someone who works side by side with you—even if you weren't close, it was still too close for you."

Annie braced herself against the kitchenette counter. He was right. How he knew all of that was beyond her—and it frightened her to death, as ironic as that sounded.

"Now let me make myself clear," Armin said, a shadow covering bright, azure eyes. "I'm perfectly okay with not harming _you_ , but I don't give a damn about anyone else in your life. If I feel like killing them, then I will—whether you love them like a brother or want to tear their hair out. I usually don't do it on _purpose_ —"

"But you just _did_!" Annie snapped, "You _tortured_ —"

"One," Armin cut her off, "you two were merely coworkers. Two, she was strong enough to withstand more so she was least likely to have any permanent injury. Three, I only sought her out just so I can prove my point—which I did."

Annie let out a shaky breath, but said nothing.

"Am I clear?"

"…C-crystal."

She never knew it, but he was completely right—she was perfectly fine with their little arrangement up until she made the mistake of letting him loose on the city. Now her coworker's in the hospital, and while she pretty much hated her she didn't deserve _that_.

 _I don't give a damn about anyone else in your life_.

Did he threaten her? Though he promised never to hurt _her_ , if she didn't do as he says he'd hurt her friends? She didn't have any family left, but…

 _Whether you love them like a brother…_

Reiner and Bertoldt.

He _did_ threaten her, the little shit. She wanted nothing more than to beat the shit out of him, but she refrained because there was no guarantee he'll go back on his promise if provoked to do so.

Suddenly he let out a laugh, startling the blonde girl. "You'll have to be careful about whom you claim you want to kill," he said with a smile, "because I may just arbitrarily grant that wish for you."

Annie laughed nervously, and Armin picked his book back up, though he still looked troubled.

"…what is it now?"

The blonde looked down at his book, but she knew he wasn't paying attention to the words printed on its pages. "Just…a little tired is all."

The way that he said it wasn't convincing in the least.

"You're bloodthirsty again, aren't you?" Annie asked.

At that, Armin smirked—though his eyes stayed glued to his book. "Are you _encouraging_ me to go out and kill people?"

Instead of answering, she said, "Why is it just now returning? If it was because of the freebie I gave you, then you should have been bloodthirsty since you first broke out of the asylum."

"I…I haven't had the time to do it _right_ until the then," Armin replied, not looking at her. "When I broke out, I had to kill them as quickly as possible—I couldn't just sit there and entertain myself with a single victim for several hours."

There was an awkward silence between the two of them, and Annie started growing more nervous. "If…if the thirst becomes… _unquenchable_ , then would you kill me?"

Armin finally looked up at her, his normally bright blue eyes looking dull. "I don't know," he said simply.

That wasn't the most reassuring answer.

Suddenly Armin closed his book and stood up. "I'm going out," he said simply, heading towards the backdoor. "Is the alarm on?"

"Y-yeah," she replied, suddenly afraid. "W-why—?"

"Don't bother," he interrupted, "I got it."

He crouched down on all fours and crawled through the doggy door that she had installed when she still had Mr. Fluff. It was fairly large, but she was still surprised he was able to fit through it.

It explained how he got around the alarm system.

When he made it through, he looked back at her, his dull eyes boring into hers as he mouthed two words to her.

 _I'm inhuman._


	14. Giggles

**Warning—more psycho-crazy Armin, except you're going to have to read the entire chapter…and he's psycho-crazy throughout the entire thing…**

"I—I'll pay you anything!" his victim begged, "j-just please sto— _AAHHH!_ "

The blonde grinned as he tore apart the man savagely, all form and style vanishing as he desperately clawed at his back with his bare hands, grinning widely. "Keep screaming," he whispered, "just…keep screaming…"

However, the man's screams died down into whimpers, and he knew he was starting to bleed to death. "N-no…" the blonde said, "I…I said _scream_!"

It was no use. The man was completely still, his breath nonexistent. Growling in frustration, he took the box cutter that was in his pocket and stabbed the man a few times in this already shredded back. He died quicker than most of his other victims—he _was_ older than them, fifty, probably sixty years old.

"Damn it…" he muttered, stabbing him repeatedly. "Damn it damn it _damn it_!"

 _It's no use_. He sighed and stared outside. It was still dark, but the sky was ever so slightly lighter than when he first started. He had to get home before she began to worry.

 _Why would you care?_ A voice inside his head asked, _she can easily turn you in again after this glimpse of freedom. For all you know, she could have called the cops already._

 _You could be being watched at this very moment._

"No," he muttered, "I'm not letting paranoia getting the best of me again."

The blonde stood up and looked around, staring at the piles of bodies lying around him. He didn't feel like cleaning up, and he didn't have the time. So instead he merely left them there and went to Eren's car that he stole and fixed up, getting it repainted and putting a false license plate on it. Then he stripped and got into a change of clothes, and buried his dirty ones nearby.

As he drove away from the abandoned building, Annie's words kept running through his head, giving him a migraine.

"Damn it…" he muttered. At this rate, he'll end up killing _himself_.

But of course, that's the one thing he _can't_ do.

"I'm home," Annie said, setting down the Chinese takeout on the kitchen counter.

When she checked the living room, he wasn't there.

She didn't want to call out his name out of fear of someone hearing—even her neighbors would question why she's casually calling out a murderous psychopath's name as if he lived with her.

Annie began to worry. What if he left? Was she stuck being all alone again?

Before she was able to worry herself further the front door was suddenly kicked down, and a man rushed at her, knife raised. She ducked and kicked the man right in the shin, but he got up and went to stab her again, not even limping.

"Who _are_ you!?" She demanded as she ran into her room, searching for her shotgun.

"The question is," the man said, "who are _you_?"

It was then when she recognized him—it was DD, the other mass murderer that had challenged Armin on live television. He still had the jersey and ripped skinny jeans, but his colored contacts were out, leaving him with angry brown eyes.

"I saw Armin come in and out of this house several times," DD said, "why hasn't he killed you yet?"

"I ask myself the same thing," she said, finally spotting it by the dresser where she last had it. She desperately groped for it, but DD lunged at her again, stabbing her in the shoulder. Annie cried out in pain as she was stabbed again, DD laughing like a maniac.

"You matter to him," he said, "so therefore I need to kill you!"

Suddenly it clicked.

 _I'm just a little tired, is all._

Did Armin _know_ that DD found out where he was staying?

It seemed as time stopped for an eternity, with DD's knife raised in the air, ready to brutally murder her. He had a crazed grin on his face, and his eyes were wide with madness and delight—almost like someone else she knew.

For a split second it wasn't DD holding the knife.

"I don't think so."

DD dropped the knife and sputtered, stumbling back and crashing onto the ground. Behind him stood Armin himself, eyes wide.

"A-Armin—" Annie gasped, "I…I need…"

She needed medical assistance, but no doubt the police will be here too—then Armin would get caught.

"I'll call 911," Armin said, "But first—"

"I'm not that easy to kill," DD muttered, "You'll never get her out of here alive!"

"You wanna bet?" Armin asked, smiling sweetly.

DD moved to punch him in the face, but Armin ducked out of the way and kicked him hard in the shin, exactly like Annie did. It did nothing, just like Annie's attempt, but Armin then took DD's arm and judo threw him over his shoulder. She wasn't sure how he did that when DD was at least twice his size, but the larger man nonetheless landed on the floor with a thud, gasping as the wind was knocked out of him. He groaned as he tried to sit up, but Armin put his foot right on his throat, pulling an already bloodied butcher's knife from behind his back.

"You really thought that I'd let you hurt her?" Armin asked, giggling slightly. "You're even stupider than I thought."

"Damn…you…you runt…"

The blonde's giggling became uncontrolled as he stomped on his face, crushing his nose.

"A-Armin…" Annie stammered. He had that unhinged look on his face, and the fact that he was holding a sharp object didn't help things at all.

It didn't seem like he heard her as he lifted the knife. "Now you'll see what happens to those who touch _my_ Annie," he said, eyes and grin wide with madness.

 _My Annie._

What had she gotten herself into?

Suddenly DD grabbed Armin's ankle and yanked, causing him to lose his balance and fall over—the knife clattering out of his grip. Before he could recover, DD mounted him and began to rain punches down his face, making Annie gasp.

"Just like in school, eh Arlert?!" he bellowed, not letting up once. "You think you're the shit, but you're just a stupid little runt—!"

He didn't get to finish, when Armin somehow got his legs from under him and swept DD's legs and caused him to fall over. He then used this opportunity to mount him and began to do as DD did to him.

"You call _me_ the runt!?" Armin asked, laughing hysterically. "I'm the _runt_ who's going to make your life a living hell! You can't do _shit_ to me! You're _nothing_!"

The blonde then stood up and grabbed the knife. "I'm…I'm going to tear you apart…" he muttered, eyes and grin wide and crazed as he approached the man on the floor, who began to back away from him in terror.

He was frightening.

"You…you're insane…" he stammered.

 _And you're_ not _?_ Annie thought to herself.

"Thank you Captain Obvious," Armin said, rolling his eyes.

DD tried to just up and run, but Armin's hand was faster. The butcher's knife got him right in the chest, causing him to fall over and cough up blood.

The giggles came back, and Annie covered her ears. She couldn't _stand_ that sound—it terrified her to no end. However they were too loud, too loud, and she removed her hands to her bleeding shoulder.

 _Oh right_ , she thought, _I had gotten stabbed…_

She wanted to just lose consciousness completely when Armin spoke again.

"I'm going to do to you what you did to me…all those years ago…" he murmured, "No…I'm going to rip off all of your limbs…I haven't done that in a while…"

Armin's body was literally convulsing with insane giggles as he swayed back and forth like a drunk man. His hair was disheveled, his normally bright eyes were dull and unfocused, and Annie actually saw tears running down his pallid, stretched cheeks.

He was terrifying.

Annie closed her eyes when she saw Armin's hand move and heard a disgusting noise as DD screamed in agony. The gross sound of steel cutting flesh persisted, and that horrible, _horrible_ giggling drove Annie to tears.

"A…Armin…" the blonde girl whimpered, "p-please…please stop…"

"N-n-no—!" DD choked, "P- _please_! I—I—"

"That's right you piece of shit!" Armin laughed insanely, "Scream! Beg for mercy! Beg like the _worthless motherf-cker you are!_ "

Annie was now sobbing, and she felt something splatter on her shirt.

"S…stop…" she whispered, "s-s- _STOP IT!_ "

Everything stopped, and it was completely silent. Annie didn't dare risk opening her eyes.

"Annie…"

It was Armin's voice, but it was small, soft, and breaking with tears.

"I…I'm so sorry…"

Annie tried to open her eyes, but she slumped onto the ground, her vision blurring as she lost more blood. "Ar…min…"

Footsteps retreated away, and she heard the click of her home telephone.

"Hello? It's an emergency—I have a victim of DD with multiple stab wounds at 34567 S Trost Avenue—he's dead—yes I'm certain. If he survives a butcher's knife to the—just get here quickly okay? She's starting to black out from blood loss."

With that, he hung up.

 _Multiple stab wounds?_ Annie looked down and saw she had another in her stomach, and one in her side.

 _…_ _oh_.

"You…you'll get…caught…" Annie whispered, "D…don't…"

"I don't care," Armin said flatly, kneeling down towards her. "And he was right—I _do_ care about you. So I'm not letting you die by anyone's hand but my own."

 _But my own_.

Before she can dwell on that, she slipped into unconsciousness.

 **…** **about this…**

 **Even though I said the word fuck before, saying "motherf-cker" makes me uncomfortable because it just does.**

 **Anywhoo, Read & Review :D**


	15. Dream

_"_ _Annie…"_

 _The blonde girl immediately realized that she lay in a big bed with red covers and Armin was straddling her. He moved to kiss her, and she returned it—it was slow and sweet, and she knew she tasted oranges._

 _When she drew back, he was covered in blood._

 _It was all over his face, dripping down into his eyes. There were also splatters in his hair and clothing, and she choked back a scream._

 _"_ _You're so beautiful Annie…" he commented, tracing a bloodstained hand across her pale, frightened face. "Won't you smile for me?"_

 _He dragged his finger across her lips, drawing a happy face. "You have such a lovely smile…"_

 _The bed below her turned wet, and when she looked down she realized that the silk turned to blood. When she looked down at her stomach, she saw that a knife protruded from it and more blood spilled out onto the covers._

 _"_ _I've never heard you scream," he said quietly, grasping the handle with his other blood soaked hand._

 _He tore it out, and Annie strangely felt the pain—though she refused to cry out._

 _"_ _Scream for me," he whispered, raising the knife high._

 _He began to giggle, that awful,_ awful _sound echoing in the dark room she was in. She was able to see him and the bed as if there was a spot light shining on them, but she couldn't tell whether there was even a floor with how dark it was._

 _"_ _Scream for me," he demanded, his grip tightening on the handle._

 _She couldn't even if she wanted to—her throat felt tight and it was difficult to breathe._

 _He began to giggle again, his facial expression much like the one he had when he killed DD. He had tears falling down wide, crazed blue eyes, and that hideous grin stretching across his bloodied face._

 _And he continued to giggle._

 _"_ _I said_ SCREAM _!" He yelled, bringing the knife down._

* * *

And scream she did.

Bolting upright in her bed, she did as he said—shutting her eyes tight and gripping her hair she screamed and screamed, begging him not to hurt her. Screaming that he promised, that he said he wouldn't hurt her. She kept screaming until—

"A-Annie!"

The sound of her name caused her to quiet.

Annie slowly opened her eyes. They burned from the bright florescent lights above as the smell of Trost Hospital filled her nostrils. "W…what…?"

"Thank goodness," the same voice said, placing a hand on her shoulder and gently set her back down on the bed. "You scared the living shit out of me!"

Her vision finally focused and saw Jean and Eren standing over her, faces full of concern.

"Did you have a dream or something?" Jean asked.

 _Scream for me_.

"Yeah," she murmured, sighing.

"That must have been one hell of a dream," Eren muttered, "But don't worry, that psycho's behind bars."

Annie sighed again. She couldn't help but feel as if this was somehow her fault—if she didn't let herself get stabbed then Armin wouldn't have felt the need to protect her. On the other hand, after witnessing what she had, she was kind of glad he was away from her.

Kind of…but not really.

 _I_ do _care about you._

Why did he care about her so much? He could have left and waited for the medics to arrive, but he must have stayed—why would he do something so _stupid_?

 _I'm not letting you die by anyone's hand but my own._

* * *

After about a week she was released from the hospital and heard some interesting news.

"He _didn't_ get the death penalty?" Eren asked, completely confused.

"No," Sasha replied, "he got a life sentence in prison—not the insane asylum he was at, just plain prison."

She was sitting with them at Connie's house due to Eren's insisting, though she didn't plan on _staying_. Both murderers were where they couldn't get to her, so she had no reason to leave.

 _I_ do _care about you_.

"Which prison is he at?" Annie asked quietly.

"I heard he was at the Sina one," Eren said, "I forget it was called."

"Oh yeah!" Connie said, "I heard that too!"

She assumed they were talking about Stoheiss Federal Prison because that's the only famous one that might actually have a chance of keeping Armin trapped for good.

Emphasis on the _might_.

"I need to go," Annie said, standing. "Thank you for having me Connie."

"Y-you sure you wanna leave?" Connie asked, "You can stay—"

"Goodbye guys," she interrupted as she turned and left.

Before she did however, she stole a glance at Mikasa—she looked like her old self, but her eyes seemed duller than normal. Mikasa glanced back and Annie felt the suspicion as she walked out of the house and to her car.

 _I won't let you die by anyone's hand but my own._

She desperately wanted to find out what was going through his mind right now—and she wanted to postpone going home alone again. They had both grown so accustomed to each other's presence at her house that she'd often come home to him cooking something in the kitchen or even cleaning and doing laundry. One amusing day he had went to the point of her OCD boss and cleaned the entire house.

 _"_ _I'm ho—"_

 _Annie stopped. The pile of dirty laundry on the couch was gone, the mess on the table disappeared, and her light brown carpet was a blinding white. Completely confused, she scanned the sparkling bathroom and still relatively messy bedroom for the mass murderer inhabiting her house._

 _"_ _Armin?"_

 _"_ _In here!"_

 _She finally found him in the equally sparkly kitchen doing the dishes. "What are you doing?"_

 _"_ _I had just finished cooking," Armin said as he scrubbed those large pans everyone hates cleaning. "And I kind of made a mess…"_

 _Annie stared at the spotless kitchen. "…where the hell did it go?"_

 _"_ _I cleaned it up," he said simply, "and I decided since you're housing a known fugitive why not work to earn my keep?"_

 _She saw the trash wasn't taken out. "What about—"_

 _"_ _Didn't want to risk being spotted outside," Armin interrupted, "I cleaned everything else, so I think you can deal with taking out the trash…"_

 _Annie sighed. "Yeah…"_

 _Armin rolled his eyes. "Fine, give me an oversized white hoodie."_

 _"_ _W-what? Why?"_

 _"_ _Since you're home, I'll just cover my face—my hair's blonde and—"_

 _"_ _I got it," Annie murmured, a smile tugging at her lips. "It's fine."_

After that she had stopped by Barnes n' Noble and bought him a large stack of books to keep him occupied, but she still came home every day to a spotless house—all she had to do was take out the trash every now and again. It's not that she _minded_ it—she just kind of felt bad that Armin was stuck at home alone with chores while she was at work.

The more she thought, the more it he sounded like a stay at home husband.

 _Now you'll see what happens to those who touch_ my _Annie._

The vague wisp of a smile that was on her face vanished.


	16. Fears and Flaws

"Annie?!"

She waited patiently as Armin registered her presence and figured out what to say. His jumpsuit wasn't as neat as the one she'd first met him in—it was wrinkly and looked a size too big. His hair was also messy, almost as if someone ruffled it on purpose. His bright blue eyes were wide with shock, but there were large dark circles underneath, as if he hadn't been getting any sleep.

"Hi," she said finally.

He stared at her for a few more seconds until he sighed, lowering his eyes. "Why…why are you here?"

"Because I care about you," Annie murmured, not at all surprised by how harsh his words sounded. No doubt he's wondering how she could care about a heartless murderer and is just as confused as she felt.

There was a long silence, and then Armin gave a long, tired sigh.

"I can't do this anymore…"

"Armin what do you mean?" Annie asked, alarmed. "What's wrong?"

"Lying to you…all this time…"

He put his face in his hands, laughing humorlessly. "I don't deserve someone as sane and normal as you…"

She put her hand on the glass. "Armin…what do you mean?"

There were a few more minutes of nothing until he finally looked back up at her. His bright blue eyes were sad and empty as he took a deep breath.

"You…you called me a…'Civilized Psychopath'. You…" Another deep breath. "…you're wrong."

Annie's eyes widened and she feared where this was going. "Armin…the files—"

"You guys don't find every victim I kill," he said quietly. "I…" Another deep breath. "The 'god of Death' thing was true—but…the rules I had made up on the spot. I didn't think that if I showed you how fucked up I really am you'd let me stick with you for long…"

 _I don't appear to kids below the tenth grade._

 _I don't kill anyone below the tenth grade._

 _I don't kill pregnant women._

If he lied, then…

Annie stood up and backed away from the window. "You…you…"

"Looks are deceiving," Armin said, "Remember when I said if I feel like picking an innocent off the street, I'll do it? How could I possibly have enough information on countless random strangers to know who to kill and who not to kill? I try to avoid obviously pregnant mothers, but…"

Annie found it difficult to breathe.

"I didn't care about _anyone_ ," he continued, "but when I saw DD trying to kill you because of _me_ …"

He put his face in his hands let out sob. "I had messed up," he lamented, "I _knew_ he saw me, but I pretended everything was okay…I didn't leave because I was scared he'd hurt you—but then I-I thought he'd leave you alone after I left…I knew hurting Mikasa would have pissed you off, and eventually you would have been repulsed by me…but then I realized I didn't have the time to change your feelings and just left. But then I heard you scream and…and…"

Annie stared at him as he ran his hands through his hair, propping his head up on the table and looking down, ashamed. "You saw me at my worst," he whispered, "I…I completely lost control of myself, and it was all my fault."

"I always said that I can do anything except one thing," Armin murmured, "I can't kill myself."

"Why?" Annie asked for the umpteenth time.

Armin let out a humorless laugh. "This may seem random, but did I ever tell you I used to be Catholic?"

Annie blinked, not following his train of thought. "Uh…no…?"

It _did_ make sense, though—St. Maria High could very well have been a Catholic School.

"Well…it's what I meant by a 'really strict' family," he explained, "I was more Protestant to them, and I was always told I can't do anything right—one rather rude schoolteacher said I was going to freeze to death in the lowest pit of hell with the Devil himself. Catholicism has some pretty violent descriptions of hell, and she said I would suffer through every single one of those descriptions. Me turning into a homicidal maniac didn't improve their impression of me—I guess it only proved them right."

"So…you're afraid of dying," she said quietly, "because of what they said?"

Armin nodded. "I…I'm afraid of death."

She sensed the amount of humility he had to muster up to say that and felt a tear escape her cheek. "Armin…"

"But," he added, "you made me unable to do something else—something that made me be able to face my previous fear."

"And what is that?" she asked, though she already had a pretty good guess.

"I…" he took a deep breath. "…I can't let you get hurt."

 _If your thirst becomes unquenchable, would you kill me?_

 _I don't know._

More tears fell. How could she hate him? He's a murderer, but she only saw that as a simple flaw that could be overlooked, not a major problem with today's society. Even after his confession, she still cared about him—he didn't guarantee that he wouldn't turn on her and kill her, but she just couldn't stay away.

"Does that mean you eat people?"

Armin's head snapped up to fast it made a faint popping noise. "I-I was serious about that!" he said frantically, "I'm actually a vegetarian now because of that…though I really like seafood…"

Somehow, Annie managed to laugh, making Armin stare at her.

"Why…" Armin asked bewilderedly, "after everything I had told you…why aren't you disgusted by me!? Y-y-you saw me at my worst! You saw what a horrible human being I am! Why—?"

"Because I love you," she replied bluntly, "and little flaws like being a mass murderer don't matter to me if it's you."

He stopped and stare at her, mouth agape and eyes wide.

"Do you love me back?" she asked.

He nodded mutely, blinking several times.

"Then I don't see the problem," she said, standing. "I need to go…I'll miss you."

More tears fell down his cheeks. "I…I'll miss you too."

With that she put down the phone and—with one last glance—walked away.

 **AND SO IT IS FINISHED**

 **BUT IT ISNT**

 **There will be a sequel called "Sparkles" because an actual plot is forming in my head, but yeah...check it out once I post it :D**

 **Edit 9/27/15: Sparkles has now been posted :D** s/11343261/1/Giggles-Now-with-Chapter-Titles


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